Seductions
by ArwendeImladris
Summary: Jim is seductive, even when he doesn’t mean to be. Spock tries to fight his captain’s pull, and in the process almost pushes Jim to his death…K/S Slash.
1. Chapter 1 of 2

Title: Seductions  
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, and I do not make any money from these fictions.  
Rating: M  
Summary: Jim is seductive, even when he doesn't mean to be. Spock tries to fight his captain's pull, and in the process almost pushes Jim to his death…K/S Slash.

*****

"You are very attractive and sexually advanced, for a human," the Deltan ambassador says by way of introduction at one of the fancy diplomatic galas Jim and his senior officers are sometimes forced to attend.

"Um...thanks?" Jim replies, blinking in shock. He is used to be propositioned, but not quite that way and not in a room filled with diplomats and Starfleet brass.

"I would enjoy partaking in sexual intercourse with you," the male continues.

Jim blinks again.

"Are you going to at least give me your name first?" he asks evenly, willing to humor the diplomat just a bit.

He doesn't want to have sex with this man, no matter how sexy he may be - he's in love with Spock, and he's practicing abstinence for a while before he approaches his first officer. That way, the Vulcan will take him seriously and know that he's not just after that hot body...

Besides, the Deltan has taken his pheromone suppressors - he has to have, or Jim would already be drooling and all over him.

"I am Raius of Delta IV," the ambassador replies. "You are Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise. I thank you for saving Earth and the Federation, and I wish to express my gratitude through sexual intercourse."

Well, that is straightforward.

"I'm sorry, but I am not available," Jim tells him, wanting to let the alien down gently.

"You are mated?" Raius questions.

"Not yet," Jim replies, thinking of Spock. "But I want to be."

"If you are not yet mated, then we can engage in sexual relations. I will - what is the human word? - oh yes, seduce you," the Deltan declares, nodding his bald head once in emphasis.

"I really don't want to be seduced," Jim replies with a small grin.

Turning this Deltan down is probably the most fun he will ever have at one of these functions. Raius is blunt and attractive and obviously horny, and Jim is flattered by the attention.

But Raius isn't Spock, and Jim does not want to cause any setbacks in the pursuit of his first officer and friend.

So he will smile and laugh and deflect Raius's come-ons, and then he will return to the Enterprise alone tonight.

*****

Spock watches from across the room as the ambassador from Delta IV approaches the captain and engages him in discussion. Ambassador Raius is aesthetically appealing, and the captain seems to enjoy his attentions.

Spock is captivated as the captain throws his head back to laugh at a statement from the ambassador.

Spock cannot make the captain laugh like that…

The half-Vulcan turns his attentions away from the spectacle on the other side of the room, and once more focuses on Lieutenant Uhura. Though their romance had come to its logical conclusion some months prior, he still appreciates spending time with the lieutenant.

They are…friends.

Much like Spock is with the captain – except not precisely the same. Because while his romantic endeavors with the lieutenant have been settled, Spock is…apprehensive of initiating relations with the captain.

"Spock," Nyota says, diverting his thoughts once again. "Why don't you go over there and pull the captain away?"

Spock once again glances at the captain, seeing him engaged in a discussion with the Deltan ambassador.

"He would not welcome the intrusion," Spock disputes.

Nyota glares at him, dark eyes intense.

"Spock – the captain is obviously becoming uncomfortable. I can see how fake his laugh is from here. He might have been flattered in the beginning, but the ambassador is being persistent," the lieutenant points out. "Go over there and save him before things become even more awkward. I know you want to."

Nyota is unusually perceptive, for a human.

"The captain can take care of himself," Spock states, borrowing one of Doctor McCoy's common sayings.

Nyota glares at him again, huffing.

"Well, fine," she mutters. "But when he beams up on the Enterprise tomorrow drooling and slack-jawed, don't come crying to me. We both know that a non-Deltan cannot have sex with a Deltan without going insane, and the ambassador obviously wants the captian to lose his mind tonight."

Spock's hands tighten into fists behind his back, and he can feel his ire rising.

But it is not logical to feel territorial over the captain – they are not engaged in a romantic relationship. So Spock just bids Nyota a temporary farewell and proceeds to perform his diplomatic duties as first officer.

*****

"Spock!" Doctor McCoy calls approximately twenty-seven minutes later. "Have you seen Jim? I can't find him anywhere."

"The captain was engaged in a discussion with Ambassador Raius of Delta IV precisely…" Spock states, but is cut off by the doctor.

"Jim was talking with a Deltan, and you didn't have half a mind to pull him away?" the human asks incredulously. "Fuck. We have to find him."

"Doctor, I am sure the captain is safe. This is a diplomatic gala. The likelihood of the captain encountering physical danger while in attendance is…" Spock attempts to reason with him, but the doctor is muttering to himself and glaring.

"I don't want to hear any of your made-up statistics right now, Spock! We need to find Jim," Doctor McCoy. "I'll check the bathroom and the nearby rooms – you go check the garden."

The doctor is gone before Spock has a chance to protest the irrationality of these actions, but Spock decides that the captain is known to find trouble even when it is statistically improbable.

As Doctor McCoy would say – "Better safe than sorry."

Spock proceeds to the gardens.

*****

Jim feels the grass cool against his back, and the stars are bright against the dark sky. His shirt is tangled around his wrists, and he cannot find the energy to struggle against Raius's hands on his belt buckle.

"I will use my mouth to encourage you to orgasm," the ambassador informs him.

Some still clear part in the back of Jim's mind takes this as a threat, and he cannot help but moan in protest.

If he had known that the ambassador could hypospray himself to remove the pheromone suppressors, he would never have let himself be led away to see the gardens alone with the Deltan…

But it is too late now, and Jim's body cannot fight the effects of the Deltan's overpowering charms. His erection is so hard that it is painful, and he can barely breathe through his lust.

In the next moment, his dress pants and briefs are around his ankles, and Raius leans back to admire the naked starlit form of his captive.

*****

Spock hears a distressed sound issued from the back of the gardens, and he quickly strides to the source of the sound.

His captain is on his back in the grass, shirt tied around his wrists and pants looped around his ankles, shivering and panting.

Spock is unsure whether the captain has consented to this treatment – but his indecision ceases when he smells the overpowering stench of the Deltan's pheromones. Vulcans – who have precise control over their bodily functions – are not affected by such smells.

Not the way humans are.

Not the way Jim is.

"Please stop…" Jim entreats the ambassador softly, weakly, fighting against the effects of the pheromones and wiggling his hips in a futile attempt to get away.

Spock's control snaps, and a low growl fills the clearing as he rushes over to aim a strong kick at the back of the ambassador's lowered head.

He will not allow that filthy mouth to touch any part of his captain's beautiful body.

Spock can see his captain struggling to sit up as he continues to advance on the Deltan, and his approach stops at Jim's weak gasping.

"Spock…stop. Just…j-just nerve pinch him. I…I think I'm allergic to the…" the human rasps out, and Spock can see that he is having trouble breathing.

He is having a delayed allergic reaction to the Deltan pheromones.

The doctor was right to worry that the captain would find trouble.

Spock quickly pinches the Deltan's neck – perhaps a bit harder than strictly necessary – before pulling the captain's clothes back into place and scooping him up in his arms. He needs to get the human away from the pheromones – and to Doctor McCoy.

*****

Jim opens his eyes blearily, looking up at the sterile white of the medbay ceiling.

"W-wha?" he questions to himself, confused.

"Goddammit, Jim – I'm a doctor, not a diplomat! I knew I should have written myself a doctor's note to avoid that fucking shindig. And you, too! The ambassador was a Deltan, Jim. A Deltan! What were you thinking?" Bones questions grumpily while reading the scans from the various machines hooked up to the biobed.

"He…he had a hypo to get rid of the pheromone surpressor in his blood. I just wanted to see the gardens…" Jim rasps weakly, raising a hand to rub his sore throat.

"Well, you had an allergic reaction to those pheromones. If I hadn't realized you were gone, and Spock hadn't found you in the gardens…you wouldn't have had to worry about going mad from Deltan sex. You wouldn't have survived much longer with your airways blocked like that," Bones informs him, glaring across his bed.

Jim turns his head to see Spock, standing stiffly in the doorway.

"Thanks," Jim says – to both of them.

He knows they worry when he gets into situations like this.

"Talk to the hobgoblin, Jim," Bones says, gentling his tone as he turns his gaze to his best friend. "Let him know that its okay for him to interrupt when some alien is intruding in your personal space. You almost died because he was afraid to impose."

"Doctor, that statement…" Spock begins, but he falls silent at the fierce glare Bones sends him.

"I talked to Lieutenant Uhura, Spock," Bones informs him. "I'm going to step out. You two better resolve your issues – now."

Jim watches his best friend stomp out of the room, and then he turns bright blue eyes to Spock.

"Thanks for saving me," he says softly, taking in Spock's stiff form – hands clasped behind his back in his traditional pose, of course.

"Thanks is illogical," Spock informs him. "Considering that I allowed my judgement to be compromised by my personal…feelings."

Jim stares, shocked at this unusual admission.

"Spock…" he interrupts, but the dark look on the Vulcan's face causes him to fall silent.

"I felt illogical possessiveness at the sight of you conversing with the ambassador, and as such I decided it was not my duty to interrupt. Had I behaved as a proper first officer, you never would have been placed in such a dangerous situation," Spock tells him, dark eyes gazing blankly ahead – awaiting judgment.

Jim takes a deep breath – wincing as it passes through his sore throat – and then sighs.

"We've gotten our lines of communication crosses, Spock," Jim says. "Because if it was up to me, it would be your business who I am talking to."

Spock's dark eyes turn to his captain, still lying prone on the biobed.

"I…I care about you, Spock," Jim continues. "A lot. I mean – a lot, a lot. And now – oh fuck, you have me babbling like a teenage girl with her first crush."

Jim blushes and lowers his eyes, dark blond lashes fanning his cheeks.

"Crush, sir?" Spock questions, and Jim cannot help but tighten his fists in the bedsheet.

"At least call me Jim, Spock," he requests seriously.

"Crush, Jim?" Spock repeats.

The human gathers his courage, knowing that it's now or never…

"I want to be t'hy'la," he blurts out, raising his eyes to watch Spock's expression.

But he cannot read what the Vulcan is feeling, of course.

"All three definitions," Jim continues. "Friend. Brother. Lover. Especially lover."

Spock cuts off his captain's babbling by striding forward and capturing those lush pink lips in a kiss.

"Oh," Jim says not-dreamily – because he is not a teenage girl, dammit! "Is that a yes?"

"That is a 'forever', my t'hy'la," Spock growls lowly. "We shall consummate our union as soon as Doctor McCoy releases you."

Jim cannot help but swallow thickly, and his dick rises at the frank possessiveness in that stare.

"I'm sure I won't be here much longer," he reassures. "Chess in my room at 1900 hours?"

Spock looks at him measuringly.

"Chess is acceptable," Spock tells him, and Jim lets a smile cross his face.

Spock turns to leave, stopping right before the door.

"As long as it is a euphemism for coitus," the Vulcan informs him, and Jim's bright, happy laughter sees him out of medbay.

So Spock can make him laugh after all – much better than former Ambassador Raius of Delta IV.

And Spock will make sure that the ambassador never has another chance – he believes that Delta Vega is pleasant this time of year…


	2. Chapter 2 of 2

_A few days (and much sex) later…_

"Spock..." Jim purrs, lounging naked on the bed as his lover sits fully clothed and serious at the desk. "We can do the paperwork later."

"There is no logical reason to delay the completion of this work," Spock responds, not looking up from the PADD.

Jim pouts, though he knows the Vulcan won't see. He slinks off the bed and saunters over to his lover, placing himself in between the chair and the desk, facing Spock.

"There is a perfectly logical reason for delaying paperwork. Your lover wants some attention," Jim pouts again, this time where Spock can see him.

Then he promptly climbs onto Spock's lap.

"I was thinking..." Jim purrs, wiggling and squirming a bit.

He manages not to smile as Spock's hands grip his hips firmly.

"It is dangerous when you think too much, Jim," Spock replies with a straight face.

But the captain sees the bit of tease in his Vulcan's eyes, and he smiles brilliantly.

"Well, I know that Vulcan's hands are an erogenous zone..." Jim trails off.

Spock just raises an eyebrow at him, as if to say 'No, duh'.

Jim brings his own hands down from Spock's shoulders to caress his lover's long, graceful fingers.

"Well, there's always been something that I have wanted to try, but I never quite trusted anyone else to let them do it..." Jim continues, hedging a bit.

He is rarely embarrassed about his needs and wants and fantasies, and Spock often indulges him, but this is a very intimate activity that he is going to be asking for, after all…

It will take a lot of trust in order for Jim not to be hurt.

So it is a good thing he trusts Spock - body, heart, and soul.

"As Dr. McCoy would say, please 'get to the point' Jim," Spock prompts, shivering a bit as his lover continues to play with his sensitive fingers.

His self-control is truly amazing. Spock doubts any other would have been able to resist when faced with a squirming, naked James T. Kirk.

Not that Spock would let anyone else in this situation, ever again…

"I want you to fist me," Jim blurts, snapping Spock out of his possessive thoughts.

"I am afraid I do not completely understand the vernacular," Spock replies, raising his eyebrow as he ponders what his lover could be asking for.

Jim blushes and lets out a long, breathy sigh. Then he visibly collects himself.

He is Captain James Tiberius Kirk, after all.

And he always gets what he wants.

Jim leans forward, wiggling a bit more on Spock's cloth-covered erection.

"I want you to lube up those long, beautiful fingers of yours, and ease them inside of me, one by one, until all four of those elegant digits are spreading my channel wide. And then I want you to slather your gorgeous hand with lube, tuck your thumb in, and slide your hand inside me until I can feel it in my throat," Jim purrs into a sensitive Vulcan ear, smirking as his lover's hands tighten almost painfully on his hips.

Spock growls - actually growls! - at him, standing up in one fluid motion, supporting Jim by moving those strong hands around to cup his bottom. Jim wraps his arms around his lover's neck and his legs around that slim waist.

He will let Spock carry him around if that's what his lover wants - after all, Spock is going to give him what he wants in return.

The Vulcan lowers his lover gently to the bed, stepping back to gaze upon Jim's naked form with lust-filled eyes. Then he opens the bedside drawer to withdraw a large tube of lubricant.

"Hold your knees to your chest," Spock orders his captain.

Jim's breathing hitches in excitement as he obeys, hooking his hands underneath his knees and exposing himself to his lover's intense gaze.

Spock drops to his knees beside the bed, pulling Jim's body near the edge so his hole is easily accessible. The Vulcan leans forward to breathe lightly on his lover's entrance, the hot air against his aching skin making Jim tremble.

"Spock..." the human whines.

The Vulcan allows himself a small smirk as he leans forward to lick around that tiny pink pucker. Jim squeezes his eyes shut at the delicious feeling of that hot, hot wet tongue touching his most private place.

"Mmm..." Jim moans encouragingly, hands tightening on his own thighs as he attempts to open himself wider for his lover.

"Please!" Jim demands, bucking his hips and trying to wiggle closer to that wicked mouth.

And how can Spock deny him?

So the Vulcan leans forward, tracing the rim of Jim's hole one more time before plunging in. And his lover convulses as that tongue spears him deeply, Vulcan strength apparent in even this muscle as Spock explores his lover's sensitive inner channel. A few thrusts leave Jim nearly incoherent with lust, babbling 'yes' and 'please' and 'more' and 'oh god, Spock'.

Spock pulls back, not wanting Jim to orgasm before he gives his lover what they both want. He quickly pops the cap to the lube, liberally smearing the fingers of his right hand with the substance as he uses his left to pull Jim's buttocks apart and expose the wet, quivering pucker even more.

The first finger goes in easily, Jim wet and stretched from Spock's tongue. The Vulcan plunges his index finger in once, then twice, before adding the second.

He gently stretches his lover on two, twisting and twining and thrusting softly as he strokes Jim's inner flesh.

"Oh!" Jim exclaims as those two beautiful fingers rub against his prostate lightly. "More!"

Spock complies, adding a third finger and watching Jim squirm at the delicious burn. Spock's own penis is aching at the sensation, a sharp burst of pleasure running from his sensitive fingers to his groin at every clench of those tight muscles.

He gently spreads his three fingers, opening his lover up slowly but surely. Three is usually the most Jim takes, as his lover likes the pleasurable burn as Spock thrusts his erection inside of him, but two is insufficient preparation if Jim wishes to walk the next day. But four...Spock controls his shudder at the thought of Jim opening up around four of his fingers.

He uses his left hand to apply more lubricant, and then he tucks his smallest finger in closer with the other three and slowly squeezes them past Jim's sphincter.

Jim moans, and Spock's eyes shoot up to watch his lover's face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Do you wish to continue, Jim?" Spock asks seriously, ready to stop at the slightest show of hesitance from his t'hy'la.

"Don't you dare stop, Spock. I order you..." Jim's growl trails off into a moan as Spock rubs up against his prostate once more.

Spock's eyes return to Jim's anus, stretched wide around four of his long fingers. He takes pleasure from his lover's slick, tight channel as his sensitive fingers thrust and scissor and rub and stroke the sensitive inner tissue.

And as Jim has said before, Spock's hands are an erogenous zone. He is gaining as much pleasure from this as his squirming, panting, perspiring lover, though Spock has more control over his expressions of pleasure.

But Jim...Spock's breath catches in his throat as he looks upon his lover.

Jim has no shame.

He has no reason to shame.

Jim is so beautiful, writhing on Spock's fingers, long legs held tight to his smooth chest as his full lips open to pant and moan and whimper. Spock wants nothing more than to unbutton and unzip his Starfleet-regulation slacks and thrust his erection into that welcoming channel.

But Jim wants his thumb.

No, Jim wants his entire hand.

So Spock continues stretching him until he feels that his lover is ready, adding more lubricant to his right hand, and carefully - oh so carefully, he does not want to hurt Jim - tucking his thumb into his palm and pressing forward.

Spock watches as Jim's body swallows his four fingers and his thumb, sucking them in greedily until Spock's entire hand up to his wrist is inside that smooth, slick channel.

"Ah...Spock!" Jim pants, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. "I need...I need more. Lube up your wrist."

Spock's eyes widen in unmistakable shock, though perhaps most humans would not have even noticed the gesture. The Vulcan looks as impeccable as always, fully dressed with not a rustle of fabric or piece of hair out of place.

The only things that betray the first officer's activities are the large bulge in his slacks and his hand, wrist-deep in his Captain.

His naked, writhing, sweating Captain - demanding that Spock give him more.

"Jim, I do not wish to hurt you," the Vulcan replies.

Jim's bright blue eyes open to meet the brown of his lover. He manages a small, comforting smile.

"You won't hurt me, Spock. Just make sure you use a lot of lube," Jim encourages, panting.

Spock searches his lover's gaze, finding nothing but love and affection and trust. And lust - a lot of lust.

But no fear or apprehension.

So Spock nods, emptying the tube of lubricant as he smears it liberally along his wrist and forearm.

And then he watches in awe as his wrist pops past his lover's tight ring of muscle, and that grasping, greedy little hole sucks half of his forearm in as well.

"Spock!" Jim shrieks, head thrashing back and forth. "God! I can feel you in my throat."

Spock cannot stop his shudder as Jim clenches tightly upon his hand and arm, the sensation beautifully sweet and intimate.

"Jim," Spock whispers back, bringing his left hand forward to stroke his lover's straining erection.

And that is all it takes.

Jim explodes, shrieking and screaming for the whole ship to hear, had his quarters not been sound-proofed. His erection throbs and twitches, shooting his release all over his stomach and chest.

And the overwhelming sensation of his lover's channel clenching down in release, milking his hand, makes Spock ejaculate inside his Starfleet-issued slacks.

"Spock..." Jim says dreamily after he comes down from his high. "That was...that was amazing..."

"Indeed," Spock replies, gently pulling his arm out of his lover.

"Wait!" Jim pants as Spock gets to his wrist.

Spock stops immediately.

"Are you injured?" he asks worriedly.

"No," Jim answers with a fond smile. "It was amazing, I told you. I'm just...really sensitive. Give me a second or two."

Spock waits for Jim's nod before gently extracting his wrist and hand and fingers from his lover's channel.

"Come up here, and I'll suck you off," Jim offers. "I don't think I could take being fucked right now."

"There is no need, Jim," Spock replies stiffly.

His lover frowns as he finally drops his knees from his tight grip, wincing as the blood rushes back into his limbs.

"You didn't get hard, Spock? I thought for sure you would enjoy this..." Jim states softly, upset that his lover had not been as into their play as he had been.

"Jim..." Spock trails off, embarrassed. "I achieved an erection, but I am no longer in such a state."

Jim frowns in confusion for a second, before a large, cocky smile spreads over his beautiful, flushed features.

"Spock...are you saying that you came from just your fist in my ass?" his lover questions teasingly.

Spock rises from his knees, towering over his sated lover.

"Indeed," he replies dryly. "As you pointed out earlier, my hands are an erogenous zone."

Jim's eyes lock on the noticeable wet spot on the front of his lover's slacks.

"That was naughty of me, making you come in your pants," Jim breathes, blue eyes glancing up at Spock fetchingly through dark blonde lashes. "Maybe you should punish me for being so bad..."

But that is a story for another time.


End file.
